Russian Roulette
by Kireania
Summary: Sequel to Modern Myth. Spencer's reaction to Jason leaving him. ANGST! Suicide mention, past sexual encounters breifly mentioned. R&R please.


Russian Roulette  
Kireania

Pairing: past Gideon/Reid

Warnings: Past mentions of sexual encounters. suicidal notions.

Summary: Spencer reacts to Jason's departure. This is an open ended sequel to  
Modern Myth.

Disclaimer: I don't own Criminal Minds, the characters or anything that is  
associated with them. The plot is mine and I am not making any money off of  
this. The song Russian Roulette is by Rihanna

A/N: Hey this is probably even worse in the angst category than Modern Myth but I was in a really bad mood tonight and I was listening to Rihanna's song Russian Roulette. And though the sequel was supposed to be with the lyrics The Kill by 30 seconds to mars this song fit my mood better. And yes I left this open ended for a reason. I couldn't decide between what ending I wanted so I left it open. I might add on chapters later as possible endings but don't count on it.

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Russian Roulette

It's been four months since I woke up alone. It's been four months since my world shattered around me and I realized that everything had been a lie. The others tried to help me, but I wanted none of their pity. I wanted to blame them for his leaving. I wanted to shout at them that if they hadn't meddled he would still be there and I could still be in that blissful state of ignorance.

I had truly thought that he was falling for me. I knew I loved him, still do even after all the pain he has put me through. I thought that night even if I couldn't convince him not to run that I would be the one thing that he'd need with him. So waking up alone with nothing left but the outfit he'd been in the day before and a set of his pajamas I realized that I wasn't nearly as important as I had been led to believe.

It hurt. I had never been more shattered…not even when I had to have my mother committed. Logically I knew that grief would eventually pass. That if I tried hard enough I might actually be able to move on and find someone that would leave me. But the thing is that I don't want to move on. I don't want anyone but him. I found that out easily enough.

Take a breath, take it deep  
Calm yourself, he says to me  
If you play, you play for keeps  
Take a gun, and count to three  
I'm sweating now, moving slow  
No time to think, my turn to go

Morgan and Garcia took me out to a club about two weeks after he left. Their excuse was that they all needed some down time. But it was obvious that they wanted me to try and find someone that took my interest. I humored them. But every time I noticed my interest raising I easily saw why. They were all dark haired middle aged men with weary looks on their faces…they all in some way reminded me of him.

I left after I spotted the fifth reminder. I walked home alone. It took me almost two hours to get to my place but the exhaustion I felt due to the long walk was welcome. Perhaps I'd actually get some sleep without fearing the dreams. Dreams that had me waking up in a cold sweat and a state of arousal. The mixing of terror and lust was unique and made me sick to my stomach.

After they realized I wasn't going to let go of my feelings my coworkers went from trying to find me another guy to trying to get my hope up that he'd come back. They tried to think of reasons why he would come back stating everything from how he had seemed to really need me to the fact that he had been married to his job and they doubted he could go without it for long. It was faintly amusing.

And you can see my heart beating  
You can see it through my chest  
And I'm terrified but I'm not leaving  
Know that I must pass this test  
So just pull the trigger

But I'm here now. I'm at the front door of his house. I still have a key and even I can't figure out why something so insignificant means so much to me. Logically I know so many things but ever since he left I haven't been able to figure anything out. I'm a drain on the team at work; I know the people up top are going to let me go soon unless I improve back to where I was.

Snorting as I open the door to his house I shake my head. I can't go back to how I was, emotionally, logically or even mentally. Jason Gideon did the one thing I have been scared of my entire life. He broke me down so far that somewhere inside of me has let go and allowed my genetic inheritance to take over. I've hidden it from everyone, it's easy enough after all I have an IQ of 187 I logically know that the voices I hear and that some of what I see is nothing more than a hallucination. Figments of my imagination that my mind has decided to make into a scary almost real reality.

My voices aren't like my mothers. I don't care if I'm being watched by the government. Hell I'd be shocked if I wasn't. I work for the fucking thing. I don't care if I'm being followed…a stalker could never hurt me the way he did. And thus I truly don't care about most of what I hear.

It's the ones that strike at my emotions that stick with me. It's the ones that say I'm the reason he left. I got too clingy. I scared him off. If I had uttered those words …if I hadn't said I loved him he would still be here fucking me senseless. If I hadn't begged him with my eyes to take me along he would still be here holding me through the night, helping me to find the strength to not release the demons inside.

I'm walking through all the dust covered areas. No one's been in here since that last day. This is the first time I have been back since. I couldn't stay away any longer. I needed to go back. I needed to know if the answer to all my questions was here. As I walk along the halls I can see us everywhere. I can see him pinning me to the wall and driving into me. I can see us in the lounge chair grinding against each other until we cry out into the other's mouths.

I move to the kitchen. He loves to cook. All his pans are well taken care of and well used. He tried to teach me but I never quite picked it up as well as he could. I had thought it would be easy after all cooking is chemistry. I know how to do chemistry quite well. But what I had thought of was the care and the love of the art of cooking that was needed for a meal to be great. I loved watching him cook. It was how I discovered that I was falling in love with him.

I had been watching him cook one evening and all I could do was smile softly. He looked so…so…free. He looked like nothing else mattered. And then he turned that gaze on me and I drowned. I felt drawn in and though now I laugh at the thought but I felt included in that gaze. It just felt like he was silently telling me that I made him free as well. All he needed was to be able to cook and be with me and he would be happy, that's what I thought his eyes said.

I was a fool. He was doing nothing but showing me how to be a cook. How to love the feel of a pan in your hand. How to know when the meal is done just right…nothing more. There was no love in that gaze. There was no need for me, nor was there the notion that I set him free. I was just in love that I saw what I wanted…not what was truly there.

I move upstairs. My hand is traveling over the wall sending the settled dust flying but I don't care. It's not like anyone will notice a few trails in the dust. If they do they'll be more inclined to think bugs made the trails, not my fingers. I disregard the obvious foot prints I am leaving. The bathroom is in my path first.

I can't even bear to look in. Too many times sharing a shower before heading to work. Too many times looking into that mirror and seeing him standing behind me, leaning on the doorframe waiting for me to finish brushing my teeth so that he can shave. I used to hog the bathroom just to get a 'punishment' later. There are just too many personal memories echoing around that room. I can't handle that. Laughing at myself lightly I drag myself to the worst room in the whole house.

Say a prayer to yourself  
He says, close you eyes  
Sometimes it helps  
And then I get a scary thought  
That he's here means he's never lost

The bed's still there. Nothing's been disturbed since Hotchner and Morgan found me curled up and asleep clutching Jason's shirt to my face. My eyes were puffy, raw and extremely red, all classic signs of someone that hadn't stopped crying for a long time. I hadn't moved for three days and they had just found me. I don't remember being moved but I do remember waking up to see concerned eyes staring at me. Hotchner felt responsible and had taken me to his house. I didn't start eating for another couple of days but I eventually did. His insistent coaxing enough to get me to start eating toast and soup.

During those first few days after I was found I caved in on myself. I retreated into my mind and I thought long and hard about many things. Some of the things I thought about I can't even answer now, but others I found an answer for. And those answers often brought a very wry and sarcastic smile to my lips.

The biggest thing I learned with all my thinking was that the best analogy for life was a game of Russian roulette. You could bet safe and stay just slightly ahead no matter what was called. But the moment you started risking yourself on specifics and trusted your fate to the roll of a single white ball you could easily lose everything. I put all my money on one call and I called the wrong number and color. I lost everything.

I stare down at what is lying heavily in my hands. I need to play the game again. I need to play the game of life. If I win then this is the last time I'll mourn. If I lose I won't then it's fate telling me that I've played my last game. I make it even…three for me, three against. They are interspersed, opposites on every side. I can't weigh the game in anyone's favor too much is at stake here.

I look up and I instantly see my reflection. I'm thin, thinner than ever before. There are bags around my eyes that no amount of sleep will ever cure and my eyes are dead. The intelligence that I used to pride myself on being reflected in them is gone. Everything I have ever learned means nothing to me anymore. There are days I even forget how to word a sentence. My clothes are a mess, wrinkles abound. Nothing like how I kept myself before. I'm not dirty…I still shower regularly even if it's just to torture myself with memories.

Behind me I see a figure. He's smiling at me, offering to play the game of life with me. I silently accept his offer. He's here playing this game…he's never lost before that's why he can still be here. I wonder if he'll lose or win today.

And you can see my heart beating  
You can see it through my chest  
And I'm terrified but I'm not leaving  
Know that I must pass this test  
So just pull the trigger

I stare at the man before me. I take in his appearance. It's nothing special really. Just a man about 5'8, average weight, average looks. The thing that entraps me is his eyes. They taunt me. Offering everything I know I can never get back. In his eyes I see Jason and I together in bed, him cooing at me apologizing for leaving. I can hear his gruff voice promising me that he'd never leave again. I can feel his lips tracing my ear as he whispers he loves me and has since that first night that I gave myself to him.

I hear it all and I nearly collapse, nearly able to tell myself that if I wait just a little long that I'll get those things. If I leave this game now I could have everything I have dreamed about getting since the day he left. I don't know how I'm still standing, I think it's that gaze that's one me. I think it's because I don't want to break eye contact with the one being that's offering me the very thing that would make me whole again.

He breaks the eye contact though and looks down at my hands and my eyes follow. It's such a simple thing really. Nothing but metal and plastic combined to make something that can protect so many people while hurting even more. I grin sarcastically. This thing is going to be my roulette table the balls are on the inside a conical shape instead of the usual spherical. I look back up at the one watching me.

As my life flashes before my eyes  
I'm wondering will I ever see another sunrise?  
So many won't get the chance to say goodbye  
But it's too late to think of the value of my life

I open the barrel of the gun I'm holding and I make sure the bullets are in the positions I remember putting them in. They are. Closing the weapon in my hand I spin the barrel and wait till it stops. I don't know whether there is a bullet in the opening that's in line with the pin and barrel. I won't even look; life will have to let me know. As I raise the gun up I think of everyone and I just let a tear fall. They might not understand why I did this. I know they won't, they'll cry and sob and blame themselves for not seeing the signs and protecting me better. They'll blame Jason for putting me through my emotional trauma. But they won't blame me and that's what I want them to do. After all this is all my fault. I'm the one that started all of this. I'm the one that made the decisions.

And you can see my heart beating  
You can see it through my chest  
And I'm terrified but I'm not leaving  
Know that I must pass this test

The barrel is at my temple now. I close my eyes leaving everything, my pain, my emotions, my future, my love, my sanity, my need up to whether or not fate and life will go for me or against me. I know what I want…but I wonder if it's selfish of me to want a release from all my pain. I wonder if it's truly being self centered that even knowing my mother will be alone for the rest of her life if this goes the way I want it, that I still want it. I pull the trigger, his name on my lips.

And you can see my heart beating  
You can see it through my chest  
And I'm terrified but I'm not leaving  
Know that I must pass this test  
So just pull the trigger


End file.
